


Chairidan

by Xelfi



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Black Romance, Body Horror, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Dark Comedy, Domestic, F/M, Homestuck Shipping Olympics, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 04:53:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/646760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xelfi/pseuds/Xelfi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another fic written for a HSO bonus round and finally posted here.  The procrastination continues.</p>
<p>Prompt: Eridan♠Kanaya, hurt/comfort + domestic comedy</p>
<p>You don't let your Kismesis die.  Not even after accidentally terminating each other's reproductive capabilities or when it would have been kinder to just let them pass on.  Not while you were still capable of tormenting one another over past mistakes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chairidan

**Author's Note:**

> I feel that I failed at the prompted genres but I still had a fun time trying. I now present to you the strangest thing I have ever written.
> 
> Possible Trigger: Body Horror

When you wake up, it wasn't to whatever afterlife long dead nautical aristocrats claimed was set aside especially for those of royal blood, but to unimaginable pain coursing through through your entire body, and you don't know how that is even possible for someone already dead. The last thing you remember is the chainsaw, and, oh god, what if death is reliving your last moments for ever, because that is what this feels like and that's just not *fair*...

Warm hands pressed up against your cheeks, and the fingers are so warm against your tear-streaked face that you don't realize it's *her* until she speaks, because when you attempted to open your eyes, you were nearly blinded by the brightness that you should have recognized but the knowledge had slipped from your pan cracked by pain.

"You didn't actually think that I would let you go so easily, did you, Eridan?" You blink through the moisture and light just in time to see her leaning in close, fangs shining, then piercing your lip and drinking from you. It hurts, but it is a better hurt than the pain that is everywhere else, because you are at least able to focus on that one part and drown the rest out. 

You must have passed out again at some point because the next thing you knew--other than strange blurry happenings that may very well have been dreams rather than reality, anyway--the pain isn't nearly as bad and you're upright instead of lying down on the cold cement floor. Looking around, you don't recognize a thing, but the bright colors and fabrics scattered throughout the area along with the hazy pain filled maybe-memories-maybe-dreams makes it obvious whose respiteblock you're currently sitting in--if sitting is indeed what you're doing because you're kind of afraid to look down.

But you look down anyway, and, oh, look at that; Kanaya stitched your severed upper body to a chair. A purple velvet armchair, even. Your arms are the arms of the armchair. Ahahahaha...

You were probably laughing too loudly, because she appears suddenly from wherever she'd disappeared to since you saw her last, and smirks a bit at your reaction. "I'm so glad you like it, Eridan. I was concerned you would not approve, but lacking Equius's expertise in robotic prosthetics, I'm afraid that following your impromptutation, this really was the best I could do. At least my previous experience in relieving males of their lower halves allowed for a smooth and relatively pain free transition with the use of proper medication and care, and now no one has to worry about you wandering off and selling the rest of us out to the enemy. Not to mention that now there should be a significantly lesser frequency of you thinking with your bulge."

Her derisive tone has you shaking in rage. The chair legs are rattling against the floor. This probably isn't good for your stitches. "Fuck you, Kan; my plan wwas the only chance any a us had gettin outta this mess alivve, but nobody wwanted to listen--nobody evver listens!--an now Fef's dead, probably Sol too, you're a goddamn undead glowwin creature a the daylight, an I'm a fuckin chair!"

She's up in your face in a flash, tipping the chair--tipping you--backwards like some kind of heavy handed bruiser threatening a captured rival in a shitty action flick, except there's no one out there with any interest in rescuing you anymore. This would probably be a lot more exciting if the bulge thing wasn't so uncomfortably accurate, but at least you'd pre-emptively avenged the loss by blowing a hole straight through her own reproductive organs and also temporarily killed her. "If you had just set aside your selfishness for a few more hours and took into account that a much better plan than trying to join forces with the demon that wants to kill us was well underway, you would have known there was more to hope for than you realized and perhaps not sought to destroy all that remained before I finally stopped you."

She was still sore about the matriorb, obviously. As if she'd ever have the chance to restore the troll race anyway now that you were all doomed. Time for a reality check. "It wwas you wwho crafted the wweapon that destroyed it all." It had been yet another thing of yours she had broke clean in two; just like your ashen feelings thrown back in your face when she rejected your proposal and turned around to play auspistice for Vriska and Tavros instead.

The chair is--you are--righted roughly, swung around, and pushed up to a table, where several other chairs were already prepared. They were just regular wooden dining block chairs with no trolls attached, though, or even any trolls sitting in them for that matter. They didn't look all that comfortable, so you were not at all surprised when Kanaya chose to sit on you instead--but you are incredibly pissed off. You can't even raise your arms to scratch her or tilt your head far enough to bite and your neck is very clearly exposed and ready for her to feed from on her every whim. "I made a mistake," she finally responds, "and I took care of the consequences as best I could. You, on the other hand, continue to express a lack of growth in character and persist in blaming everyone but yourself for all the negativity that resulted from your actions." She pauses, and you seethe. "But that's all right, Eridan; now that you no longer have the ability to act on your own and make a further mess of yourself and your surroundings, you ought to have more than enough time to think about what you've done."

This is stupid; you've only ever done exactly what one with royal blood was meant to do all along. If anyone was to blame, it was the landwellers for corrupting Feferi so entirely that she actually started to pity the lowbloods instead of rising up to rule over them as the Empress she should have become with you at her side.

But Kanaya would never understand that, so you just keep it to yourself. She probably wanted you to keep talking so she could ridicule you some more, and you weren't going to give her the satisfaction.

She abruptly turned toward a clock on the wall and rose to her feet, lips curled in a cruel twist. "Oh, would you just look at the time; our guests are going to arrive at any moment and I haven't even set the table. Make yourself comfortable, Eridan; there are several others who have been anxious to speak with you."

Fuck everything--you haven't even fully recovered from being chainsawed in half and she went ahead invited the survivors over for a goddamn tea party.


End file.
